


Clean Up, Bitch! | Damon Baird x Reader |

by TonyStarks_Girl



Category: Gears of War (Video Games)
Genre: "Man it stinks in here.", "NICE! Not the smell though.", "Now I'm gonna have to change my shirt!", "That stain's never gonna come out!", Cleaning, F/M, House Cleaning, I think we all did actually, Pretty obvious in the games, Who knew Baird hated a mess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:05:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5801974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonyStarks_Girl/pseuds/TonyStarks_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suddenly there was light in your face and your husband's voice in your ear.</p><p>"Saturday! Time to clean up, bitch!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean Up, Bitch! | Damon Baird x Reader |

Damon was sleeping peacefully in his bed, the deep red sheets cool against his bare back. A hand was resting on his chest, the other just above his head, the blond hair tickling his wrist slightly. He breathed in deeply, snoring lightly. The black comforter was pulled up to his waist, the golden hair around his bellybutton showing slightly. The equally golden ring on his left hand was shining bright against his chest, sunlight creeping in from brief openings of the red curtains.

You smiled at your husband. He was so adorable when he slept, really. You carefully crawled onto the bed, maneuvering your limbs to cage around his body, knees at his hips and hands on either side of his head. Your soft lips slowly grazed his neck, pressing softly before moving to his jaw, cheek, and finally lips. He made a slight noise that sounded like a mix between a mewl and a purr.

"Daaaaaamon…" You spoke softly.

He merely made the noise again, not ready to enter the land of the living. You began kissing on his face and neck again, your fingers threading through his short blond hair.

"C'mon, baby. Got stuff to do today." You kissed his lips, feeling a small amount of success once his plush lips pressed back. The hand on his chest snaked onto your back, pulling you down flush against him.

"Come on now, Damon. You need to get up."

"Why?" He mumbled, eyes still shut while his thumb moved back and forth along your back.

"It's Saturday. As in, the day I decided we need to clean this mess of a house up."

He groaned and finally opened his eyes, his free hand wiping his eyes clean. He looked up at you with those tired blue eyes.

"What time is it?"

"About eight o'clock."

He groaned, "Not a morning person, babe…"

You chuckled and kissed his cheek, rubbing his strong arms gently, "I'm not either, but I want a clean house. So get up and get cleaning, bitch."

Damon sighed and let you off of him, sitting up and stretching. You admired his body, which was still in amazing shape even after the Locust War was over. He looked at you and winked, mussing his hair up.

"Stop checkin' me out if you're not gonna fuck me."

"I will tonight if you do a good job."

Next thing you knew, the black covers were on the floor and Damon was stripping the sheets, allowing you a lovely view of the very fitting black briefs he wore. He pointed over at you, eyebrow raised.

"Hey, stop objectifyin' me and get to cleanin'."

You snorted and pinned up your hair, "The things you do for sex…"

"Despicable, I know."

xXx

Damon slapped your ass as he walked past you, who was sorting laundry. He'd put on a black wife beater and cargo shorts after a quick shower, and was heading to the kitchen to eat and begin his cleanup. You heard his mischievous chuckle and his heavy footsteps quickly head down the stairs, and as you tossed a pair of pink panties in the lights pile, you just knew you'd be putting out tonight.

The blond genius you so proudly called your husband pulled a bowl from the cabinet, grabbing his favorite sugary cereal and dumping a large amount of it into the bowl. After finishing the process he moved about the mansion, walking completely by rooms that he was sure hadn't been opened in like ten years, minus that week Clayton had been kicked out of he and Sam's house when the woman was pregnant. (And honestly, Clayton was happy to go. The woman was already fiery as it was, and at seven months pregnant, staying with you and Baird was probably the safest place he could have been.)

He observed the bathrooms from the doorframes, making faces as he ate his colorful breakfast. Before he was looking for it, there wasn't a mess. But now that he was actively seeking the disorganization? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph his house was a disaster.

Damon moved upstairs again, leaning in the doorway to the master bedroom, where you were still sorting out clothes.

"This house is a mess."

"You're telling me…"

"I mean, damn!" He set the bowl down on his dresser. "Two people live here, two! Both adults well into their forties, and this is the place we live in. We're acting like the fucking grubs, you saw how disgusting they were! It's ridiculous! We don't have kids; the fucking cat died five years ago! There's only us! We shouldn't even have this big ass house in the first place!"

You began chuckling, completely tickled by Damon's reaction to the state of the house. He continued ranting and muttering swears as he scrubbed each bathroom bottom to top and vacuumed each room on every floor. You, on the other hand, merely laughed while doing laundry and cleaning up the kitchen.

Damon was always a bit squeamish, but never a clean-freak. Though today, that was another story entirely. He didn't even stop to eat lunch, and whenever you placed little kisses on some part of his body, he paid them no mind as he worked his ass off to continue cleaning the house.

"No time for lovey-dovey shit, woman. I've got a house to clean."

It was nearly midnight by the time the laundry was done, folded, and put away, along with all the other jobs that needed to be done. The sheets, now black with a deep blue comforter to go with, felt amazing under your body. Damon was basically a drill sergeant (you couldn't wait to inform Hoffman on this) until everything was completely neat, and now some sex and sleep were what you needed.

You looked over at him, "Still want to have sex?"

"Are you shitting me? Fuck no, I just changed these sheets today! You're crazy if you think I'm allowing _any_ bodily fluids on this bed tonight…"

You wiped your face and groaned. What the hell did you create?

xXx  
(The Following Saturday)

You were sleeping peacefully after a long night of drinking with Anya and Sam. All of you had your fair share of stories and complaints about your husbands, though the girls were most interested in Damon's interest in cleanliness. He wasn't ever dirty, really, but his workshops were never exactly organized or anything.

Suddenly there was light in your face and your husband's voice in your ear.

"Saturday! Time to clean up, bitch!"


End file.
